Free The Schopenhauer Cure by Irvin Yalom

my course work in a counseling program and all other requirements to obtain a state counseling license, except that I need two hundred more hours of professional supervision. I can continue practicing as a clinical philosopher--
    that field is not regulated by the state--but a counselor's license would offer me a number of advantages, including the ability to buy malpractice insurance and to market myself more effectively. Unlike Schopenhauer, I have neither an independent source of financial support nor any secure academic support--you've seen with your own eyes the disinterest in philosophy displayed by the clods who attend this pigsty of a university."
    "Philip, why must we shout to one another? The lecture is over. Would you mind taking a seat and continuing this discussion more informally."
    "Of course." Philip collected his lecture notes, stuffed them into his briefcase, and eased into a seat in the front row. Though they were closer, four rows of seats still separated them, and Philip was forced to swivel his neck awkwardly to see Julius.
    "So, am I correct in assuming that you propose a swap--I supervise you and you teach me about Schopenhauer?" Julius now asked in a low voice.
    "Right!" Philip turned his head but not enough to make eye contact.
    "And you've given thought to the precise mechanics of our arrangement?"
    "I've given much thought to it. In fact, Dr. Hertzfeld..."
    "Julius."
    "Yes, yes--Julius. What I was going to say is that I'd been considering the idea of calling you for several weeks to try to arrange supervision but kept putting it off, primarily for financial reasons. So I was startled by the remarkable coincidence of your call. As for mechanics, I suggest meeting weekly and splitting our hour: half the time you provide expert advice about my patients, and half the time I am your guide to Schopenhauer."
    Julius closed his eyes and lapsed into thought.
    Philip waited two or three minutes and then: "What say you to my offer? Even though I'm certain no students will appear, I'm scheduled for office hours after my lecture and so must head back to the administration building."
    "Well Philip, it's not your everyday offer. I need more time to think it through.
    Let's meet later this week. I take off Wednesday afternoons. Can you do four o'clock?"
    Philip nodded. "I finish at three on Wednesday. Shall we meet in my office?"
    "No, Philip. My office. It's in my home at two-forty-nine Pacific Avenue, not too far from my old office. Here, take my card."
    Excerpts from Julius's Journal
    After his lecture Philip's proposal for a supervision-tutoring swap stunned me.
    How quickly one moves back into the familiar force field of another person! So much like the state-dependent memories in dreams in which the landscape's eerie familiarity reminds you that you've visited the identical locale before in other dreams. Same with marijuana--a couple of hits and suddenly you're in a familiar place thinking familiar thoughts that exist only in the marijuana state.
    And it's the same with Philip. Only a little time in his presence and--presto--my deep memories of him plus a peculiar Philip-induced state of mind reappear in a flash.
    How arrogant, how disdainful he is. How uncaring about others. And yet there is something, something strong--I wonder what?--that draws me to him. His intelligence?
    His loftiness and otherworldliness coupled to such extraordinary naivete? And how unchanged he is after twenty-two years. No, that's not true! He's liberated from the sexual compulsion, no longer doomed to walk nose-to-ground forever sniffing for pussy.
    He lives much more in the higher places he's always longed for. But his manipulativeness--that's still there, and so patent, and he's so clueless about its visibility, about how I should leap at his offer, how I should give him two hundred hours of my time in return for his teaching me Schopenhauer, and brazenly presenting it as though it was I who suggested it, who want and need it.